


e·the·re·al

by orphan_account



Category: Youtubers, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Death, F/M, Gore, Stabbing, Torture, suicide squad references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 06:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12126408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Ran into an old friend of yours today,” Amy says softly, sweetly, pulling her bag off her shoulder and opening it, dispensing a red-stained silver knife onto the dark wooden desk.





	e·the·re·al

**Author's Note:**

> for [clair--ookami11](http://clair--ookami11.tumblr.com/)

_She was fearless, and crazier than him._

 

Mark hears the door to his office open, hears the soft creak of aged metal being forced to move, but he doesn’t look up front the screen of his computer until he hears a voice. “Ran into an old friend of yours today,” Amy says softly, sweetly, pulling her bag off her shoulder and opening it, dispensing a red-stained silver knife onto the dark wooden desk. “He wanted me to say hello to you since he couldn’t come here himself.”

 

Mark’s eyes darkened, analyzing the cloth carefully wrapped around Amy’s hand. “ _He_ did that?” Mark’s hand goes to the blade, picking it up and inspecting the tattered, rusty metal. “This was his?”

 

Amy nods, though it's quickly followed by a sigh. “It’s hardly anything to get worked up about, not like the poor thing actually has the brains to do a proper amount of damage,” The blonde said softly, carefully unclenching her fist and fiddling with the clip holding her bandage in place.

 

Mark wasn’t listening, by now the only thing in his mind was that he’d given that pathetic scum the grace of living through their previous encounter _and this was that low-life’s way of saying thank you?_  Immediately, he’s off on a tangent and Amy’s rolling her eyes because, despite what several believe, Mark is primarily bark and very little bite, and she has a slight suspicion this is one of those instances. She slowly unraveled her bandages, watching as the fabric goes from crisp white to tainted with dried crimson. Her wound was still struggling to close itself, her palm slashed open deep enough to see her muscle structure and still hurt quite a bit to touch. Mark’s still naming off every insult at the book to an audience that isn’t here to appreciate the creativity, and it takes a minute before he's slamming both palms on his desk. Amy jumps at the sudden noise, but Mark’s voice follows swiftly after, tone drenched in malice.

 

“If he’s in town, we’re finding him. Now.”

 

A smile spreads across Amy’s lips, “Really?” Mark nods, and she laughs. “Didn’t know you had it in you.”

 

_She was his queen._

 

It takes an hour, but when they find him, he’s entertaining a friend in a dark alleyway. “Much like a common sewer rat” Mark laments, parking his car a few feet away from the two figures. Upon closer inspection, it appeared he was near the end of his alley chat with his new acquaintance. His hands were soaked in blood, and the red was splattered across his pale skin, clothing, and bright green hair. Mark Turned up his nose in disgust.

 

“Are we interrupting something important?” Mark asks, his voice causing the other’s head to raise immediately.

 

Jack looked between Mark and Amy, then to his surroundings, likely planning an escape route at a breakneck pace. He was cornered, however, the only escapes being to their hop a tall fence or make it through the entry Mark and Amy were currently blocking. So he’s got one option. Jack pulls the blade from his victim's stomach, watching as the lifeless body slides down the wall and lies on the ground, a limp mass of blood and ripped skin and gore. He wipes the blade on the high of his jeans and turns to look at the couple.

 

“Lovely, as always, seeing you Amy.” He smirked, twirling the small knife in his hands. Amy makes a face of disgust and shakes her head. “You as well, Mark. I didn’t think I’d get the pleasure of seeing you today.”

 

“Didn’t think you would, or simply didn’t _want_ to?” Mark snaps back, “Why not give me the same warm welcome you gave Amy earlier?”

 

Mark digs into his jacket pocket and produces the knife from earlier. “It was nice of you to give me a gift, as well.” He hands the blade to Amy, who carefully balls it unto her fist.

 

Jack barely takes a second to acknowledge the weapons exchange before he's charging towards the apparently now unarmed Mark. Unfortunately for him, Mark’s reflexes are swifter and he’s got a death grip on Jack’s wrist with both hands and holds it in place before the blade can make contact with his skin. Jack reels at the unexpected swiftness, and his nails are immediately digging into Mark's hands to free the grip the older male has on him. Mark takes the hesitation for granted, twisting Jack’s arm at a painful angle and overpowering Jack’s struggled to sam the lib against the building’s wall for good measure. Jack lets out a sharp keep of pain, and his other hand moves from trying to pry mark’s grip loose to Mark's face, clawing at the exposed skin.

 

Amy sees her opportunity and moves swiftly, slinking behind Jack and grabs the arm Mark can’t keep away from him and twist it painfully behind his back. Her free hand is used to press her knife to his throat, and she laughs as he sees Jack's Adam's apple bob with a nervous swallow.

 

Mark is now able to successfully disarm Jack, and he happily seizes that ability. Jack’s knife is rather small and lightweight compared to the one Amy had gotten off of him, likely his only backup after she’d disarmed him.

 

“What d’you think?” Amy looks to Mark, pressed the blade harder against Jack’s neck as he struggles to break free.

 

Mark smiles, curling his hand over her grip it the handle of the blade, pressing forward until blood begins collecting at the base of the metal. “It’s hardly anything I should be speaking on. After all, he did choose to go after you.” Amy has a sparkle in her eyes that warms Mark’s heart. “Do what you wish with him.” He punctuates the statement by driving the smaller knife into Jack’s abdomen, chuckling as Jack chokes and fights the grip they have on him more.

 

“I’d say a good place to start would be his hands, make it harder for him to keep fighting.” Mark speculates, and Amy nods ecstatically.

 

Mark pulls the knife from Jack’s abdomen and he and Amy share a look of glee as Jack begins to cough up blood. Jack screams his protests as mark raises the knife to the hand he’s still gripping tightly to hold still, and Mark carefully carves jack’s index and middle finger off with minimal effort. The flesh falls to their feet, and jacks sobbing in pain as he attempts to wriggle and fight to free himself. Mark plunges the blade into the palm of Jack's hand, savors the sickening crack of bone shatters and the spray of dark red on the three of them.

 

Tears stain jack’s face as he struggled in vain to help himself, and mark stab the knife into Mark's arm and drags down, watching skin split and tear under the force of his actions and as blood and torn muscle bits ooze down onto the pavement.

 

“He’s all yours, love” Mark cooed, pulling the weapon free from Jack's flesh and stepping back.

 

Amy lets go of Jack’s arm to instead grab a handful of the man’s hair and slams his head against the bricks, grinning wickedly as the sick crack of the two objects connecting at such a quick speed. Jack is dazed, be it from the ever-growing blood loss or the undoubted concussion he’s just sustained. Amy’s hacking at his one good arm first, ripping apart jacks clothing with her knife and eviscerating jack’s hand and arm beyond use. Each drive of the blade in her tight grip hurts her hand, but the adrenaline the pain mixed with her actions gives her only spurs her on to be more aggressive.

 

Jack’s arm is more muscle than skin by the time shes finished with it, and she immediately moves to slicing his neck open, hardly flinching as jack chokes on blood and the almost-black liquid splatters onto her face. By the time she’d sliced Jack’s stomach open and ripped his intestines out, he’s gone limp.

 

A twisted smirk spread across Amy’s lips as she plunged her knife into the corpse a final time. She stood slowly, her body buzzing from adrenaline and thrill of watching the life drain from another person. Mark presses a kiss to her temple and wraps an arm around her waist, supporting her on his weight as she struggles on shaking limbs to walk back to their car. Her hands are still gripped to the blade with white-knuckle force, and her shirt and arms are soaked in near-black blood.

 

“How long do you think before Signe goes looking for him?” Her voice is soft, barely a whisper.

 

“I’m sure we’ll be hearing from her soon. I’ll let you handle that one as well, if you’d like.” Mark says with a smirk.

 

_God help anyone who dared to disrespect the queen._

**Author's Note:**

> [ i have a tumblr ](http://crankyplier.tumblr.com/)


End file.
